


Begrudgingly I care

by J_Ace_Flicker



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aangsty ;), Angsty Zuko, Anxious Zuko, Begrudging Caretaker Zuko, Canon Divergence, Dad Zuko, F/F, F/M, I AM BACK BABEY, Introspection, M/M, banished zuko, caretaker zuko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Ace_Flicker/pseuds/J_Ace_Flicker
Summary: The war is real, and it tears at flesh with rusted claws.Zuko is just a boy trying to do the right thing, and he sees war-- war in all of its rust-red "glory".





	1. Scars

He didn’t mean to. Really, he didn’t. He had just been banished, his scar was still throbbing with the memory of flame, and he had set sail to a town he knew had recently been colonized. It was an accident, honest.

He hadn’t expected the sallow faces. The down-turned heads. The cries of children. Zuko had been told that the empire was glory, that the war was honor; that the losses were infinitesimal in the face of all that could and would be gained.

This didn’t look like glory.

And, above all of that, he had been told that children were the future of the empire.  _ (”It is important that you all learn as much as possible now and that you conduct yourselves with caution and forethought. You all must be shaped into the best versions of yourselves as is possible to achieve. Children, after all, are the future of this great nation!”) _

So, upon seeing the crying child crawling on a pile of ash and rubble, Zuko had done the only thing possible: he had picked the toddler up. It was then that Zuko saw the somewhat deformed face, the mutilated arm, and he hugged the toddler closer, fingers touching his own, recent, mutilation.

He resonated with the child. A pile of ash was all Zuko seemed to be able to stand over, too.

Uncle Iroh walked up to him slowly, his voice a sad, low-pitched drawl, “This child was likely borne of a mother starved; there doesn’t seem to be much food in these parts.” Uncle rearranged the hold Zuko had on the child, and the child babbled happily. “But, perhaps like the Resurrecting Forests, the child can still thrive after being hurt what others would believe to be beyond repair.” A hand on Zuko’s shoulder, “The child can grow in the harshest of winters or the fiercest of fires if taken care of and loved properly. Prince Zuko, we should see if this child has a family. It isn’t safe for them to be playing in the debris: they might get sick or hurt.”

“Yes, Uncle.” Zuko had been happy for the distraction.

But the child didn’t have a family. They had all died, or been killed, or fled.

Zuko’s heart clenched in his chest. When his mother died, he had prayed that he follow her soon. When he had been banished, he wished to be swallowed by the seas. This child had lost everyone and everything, and still they laughed and babbled, unaware. 

He decided.

“Uncle…” Zuko looked away, and then into the green of the child’s eyes. Earthbender eyes. “I think we should take them with us.”

And, for the first time in what felt like years, but was only a few weeks, his uncle had laughed. A full belly, clutching at himself, tears in the eyes laugh. And Zuko laughed with him. He felt free. He felt like he could do anything.

“We’re going to have to name them—” his uncle checked the toddler’s pants and laughed again, “—her, then.”

Zuko stared at the child, his topknot a heavy burden on his head. He looked at this child, so young yet so abandoned, and grinned. “Cyrtanthus.”

“After the fire lily?” his uncle sounded vaguely impressed with Zuko’s plant knowledge, and curious as to why this name should be given to a child ravaged by the fires of their people.

“Yes. She will rise from these ashes, Uncle. And besides,” Zuko turned around, towards the ship. His men had tried to help rebuild, but they were being rebuffed. They left some coins, though. It was time to leave— Zuko was used to being able to read when he was no longer wanted. “It’s also known as the ‘Scar-borough’ Lily. It seems only fitting.”

He didn’t mean to take that child in, nor any of the others, but the scars on their skin, the sorrow in their eyes, and the loss in their hearts called to him. And now that he had taken them in, well. Zuko was never one to do anything by halves. They were his responsibility now, and he would make sure that they could grow to make their own choices.

He ignored the thoughts that bathed in blasphemy, that said “ _ Raise them to speak out, unlike your father did you”  _ because he was pretty sure that was treason.

He might have been fire, and fire will scar and burn, but it can warm and comfort, too. He just hopes that he can do so without searing the skin of these people.

He hopes, with every ounce of the raging inferno lit within him that the Avatar can save him, too.

 


	2. Think

 

 

Sometimes, amidst the cacophony of anger and confusion and determination that is his mind, Zuko admits quietly that he  _ resents  _ his Uncle. His loving, caring Uncle Iroh that would betray the Fire Nation in a heartbeat for him. Who put up with his temper. Who loved him—  _ unconditionally.  _ Zuko had not earned his love, did not deserve it, was not worthy, and still his Uncle smiled and said " _ I love you. _ " 

And he resents that.

Resents that, for all of that love, his uncle had not stood up for him in the Agni Kai. The one that changed everything. 

There was no buffer between him and his father. His mother had been, once upon a fleeting dream, but she was gone. After that, Zuko was up before the Sun and bid farewell to the Moon well into the night. He learned everything his sister would not- economics, history, tactics, swordsmanship, general affairs, court gossip- because he could not beat her in the one place it seemed to matter: Firebending. His father's disappointed gaze, his sneer, his sharp words: they were all things that no one dared refute. Not even Zuko's loving Uncle.

And it tore him apart. He was guilty. So guilty. He was disgusting and horrible and  _ deserved the scar that marred his face because he was a failure and— _

Laughter tore him from his broodi—  _ he was not brooding, Uncle! He was thinking! _

He had taken in two new children, making a total of three brats aboard the ship. Some of the crewmen had said  _ four brats total _ , but Zuko shut them up quick. No one wants to say that a  _ brat _ could take them down; cleaning duty was never pleasant, either, nor was changing diapers. Not that Zuko would know. Of course not. It's not like the crewmen had to teach him or anything.

"Zuuuukkkkooooo." Kryo called. He huffed and turned around. "Help me with my bending!" He motioned for his sister, Kairos, to come and join.

Zuko knew they weren't bound by blood, not like he to his father. Kryo was a firebender— he'd obviously been abandoned. His element was _fire_ and his name meant _cold,_ a pretty obvious indicator of how his parents felt about him. Kairos, on the other hand, was a waterbender. Polar opposites. Zuko doesn't know how they found each other, but he's glad that they'd had each other before he’d found them, at least.

He was surprised, honestly, that he didn't have a collection of children by now. War was not kind. Typically, though, he and the crew had managed to find homes for each abandoned child. It was only these three brats that insisted on pestering him still. He would never let anyone harm them. His chest clenched at the thought of someone hurting them ( _ fire in his face smoke in his lungs WHY FATHER abandonment burning _ ). 

No one would harm them. Zuko would make sure of it. Despite all of his downfalls, Zuko was a man of honor: he kept his word and he was determined above all else.

Zuko frowned, because one brat was missing, "Where's Cyrtanthus?" He pushed down the well of worry gathering in his chest, he could handle this. No need to call for a search party. Not yet.

He was answered when a joyful "Zeeeee!" bounded towards him. He pretended like he was too slow to move away from the arms that wrapped around his legs— Uncle had said that it was good to "let the young ones gain victory" or something because it gave them a sense of self-worth and accomplishment, which would ultimately lead to self-fulfillment.

Maybe that's why Zuko's own self-worth was so low. Or maybe he really was just worthless.

"Zuko!" The boy stomped his foot as he whined; Zuko wondered if he was ever like that. Maybe with his mother, but he was sure that he would have been punished severely by anyone else.

And his Uncle would have stood by and watched, with those sad, guilty eyes.

Gold is the color of ghosts, Zuko had found, because they were the color that haunted him when he closed his eyes.

"Fine, fine. Alright. This is one all of you can do. It's more about feeling than anything else." And Zuko went through the basics with them.

He watched the children as he taught them.

Kairos was concentrating, bright blue eyes narrowed. Her dark skin contrasted with the paleness of her brother's. Her brown hair was a curly mess, and it was tied up in a ponytail. Zuko wondered if there were traditional WaterTribe hairstyles that she could wear. He'd look into that later. Despite the supposed tameness of water, she had a warrior's heart. 

She wanted to fight, she had said to him. She was going to beat the Fire Nation, she'd spat. You're a child, Zuko had reasoned. And it doesn't matter what you're  _ going _ to do, because you can't do it yet. He'd given her his hand, and she'd called for her brother, who had been reading at the time. And they had become part of Zuko's family. They had become Zuko's world. They had been angry and alone and hopeless, but the two nine year olds were now full of hope. Hope was all Zuko clung to, empty wishes all he could hold. Hope was the reason Zuko got up in the morning, the reason that he took these children in. He was glad that they could hope again, for hope was Zuko's only comfort.

Kryo was pale and covered in sweat, but he was grinning and his amber eyes were glittering with mischief. Zuko wondered if he, too, had been born without the spark. The spark that indicated whether or not a child could firebend. The spark that might have made his father love him. The spark that might have made Zuko strong. But Kryo wasn't concerned with strength as Zuko was, but with precision. Kryo wanted to be a Healer. 

(“ _ I'm going to take the hurts of the world away! I'll show everyone the love they need and make them better. I'll heal the sickness in the world, just you wait!” Kryo proclaimed at the tender age of seven. Zuko had been like that, too: he thought that he would be the strongest, that he would be the best. He was wrong.) _

Kryo learned about cauterizing wounds and monitoring body temperature. Zuko and Uncle had purchased a book on healing techniques, specifically ones that firebenders could employ: they were going to teach him. Zuko wanted the boy to be happy. Wanted him to learn whatever he wanted to learn. Wanted the boy to feel comfortable in his own skin.

Zuko sometimes wished that he could climb out of his own.

Cyrtanthus struggled with the movements, her chubby and unbalanced body not quite suitable for finesse. Her green eyes were wide with wonder, and her laughter was bright and bubbly, so contrary to her element which was solid and hard. She wasn't speaking much yet, and Zuko was already planning on finding another Healer. Cyrtanthus was about 4, give or take a year, and she should have been talking Zuko's ear off, according to Uncle and the other crew members. 

The other two children didn't speak of her arm, which no healer had been able to fix, nor of how part of her face seemed to droop. They didn't mention her scars. They accepted her, and played with her, and tried their best to keep in mind that she was a toddler and not their own age. Zuko didn't pause in his teaching, but he pondered on when he'd become such a mother. He looked at Cyrtanthus, who was constantly given dirty looks by people outside of the crew, and he knew when he'd become so protective and fond: it was when he had first held her, it was when he had first beat up someone who had the audacity to call her a  _ freak _ . Zuko didn't know much about parenting, but he remembered that his mom had complimented him and protected him and played with him, so that's what he did. It was all he could do.

It was odd to think about. He had an earthbender, a firebender, and a waterbender. He only needed an airbender to complete the set. Then, he could claim that he was raising the Four Nations. Unfortunately, his grandfather had seen to the end of the airbenders.

"Prince Zuko! There is something you need to see!" one of the guards shoved the telescope into his hands. Zuko glared, but obliged, ignoring the complaints of the children.

A flare was sent into the sky, a dilapidated Fire Navy ship its source. But what could...? He angled the telescope and struggled to maintain his composure. A silhouette of a person holding another, very obviously  _ airbending _ . The last airbender was the Avatar. The Avatar! "Tell my Uncle that we've found him. We've found the Avatar."

Zuko hoped. Hoped so hard. He glanced at the children. He wanted a better life for them. They deserved a home. If he captured the Avatar, he'd become Prince again. He'd have the power to help children hurt by the war. He wouldn't be weak. He would earn his father's respect. He would earn his father's love.

He closed his eyes. He saw gold.

 


	3. Unexpected

 

Zuko did not know what he had been expecting.

No, actually, that was a lie. The barren town filled with small children one old woman was pretty much exactly what he was expecting. (“ _ Extermination. The Northern Water Tribe must be extinguished. For the good of the Fire Nation!”)  _ These people lived and breathed and died with the hatred of the ghostly  _ gold  _ that was Zuko. That was his father.  _ (Once, when he was five, his father had tried to care. He’d said, “We’re the same. We’re fighters.” All of his atrocities are Zuko’s to bear. For the good of the Fire Nation, right?) _

A kid— Zuko had lost the right to call himself a kid long ago— ran at him. A blue blur and an angry snarl and  _ fear, fear is golden.  _ Zuko side-steps. Tries not to engage. 

_(On Fire Nation ships there are safety protocols that are put in place so as not to burn the ship down. In emergencies, those protocols can be turned off so that the ship can maneuver faster. As he fights this_ boy _, this_ child _, Zuko has to hold back his need to prove himself and the monster inside him that roars with the war handed down to him and he prays to the Sun_ **safety on** ) _._

The boy throws his boomerang. Zuko dodges. The boy has potential, but he isn’t fast enough; he broadcasts his movements for the whole world to see. Zuko can’t help but create a training regimen in his head before shutting it down. It would be near blasphemous to teach a Northern Water Bender. An enemy.

HOLY— it’s the boomerang again. And that’s it. Safety  **off,** he is going to—

His hand is on his hip, his mouth opens before he gives it permission to. “Really? I get that you want to protect your tribe, but there is only  _ one of you,  _ you absolute ignoramus! You should have gone for stealth because we are an enemy of unknown numbers and power,  _ first of all,  _ and secondly: if you made us angry we might have killed you! Be glad my Uncle preaches a philosophy of peace, otherwise you’d be ashes!” He storms over to the stunned, blue boy and whacks him over the head. With his own boomerang. Zuko readily admitted that he was petty.

Zuko takes him by the ear, “Now, young man—” He realizes what he’s doing, drops the boy, and blushes bright scarlet.  _ (There was a woman. She had bled in his arms, calling for her children. She was not the first, nor the last. But Zuko saw the vivid scarlet, clutched her as it dulled to rust. Faded like her, like memories and hopes and dreams and people.) _

“Ahem.” Uncle steps in, giving him an amused look. “Apologies, but we are here because we believe the Avatar might be in this area. We do not wish to harm any of your Tribe. Have you seen them?”

The blue boy is shaken from his stupor, and he snarls, positively frothing at the mouth. “Peace? Are you serious?” He doubled over laughing. “You’re trying to capture the Avatar, the SYMBOL of PEACE, to kill him!”

“Well, we’d likely keep him locked up until he died, as to monitor him until his next incarnation.” Iroh is as blasé as ever. There is tea in his hands. He takes a sip.

Zuko breathes in. Breathes out. Calm. He is the embodiment of calm. He is the icy tundra around him. He is

Hitting his Uncle over the head for being a moron. “Not helping, Uncle!”

 “Yippee!” There is laughter, orange and yellow and  _ airbending, it’s the Avatar!  _ And…

A kid. A bald kid with arrow tattoos and airbending, but a kid nonetheless.

“Heya!” The kid smiles. His eyes are innocent. He’s never killed or tortured or watched the death of civilizations. He hasn’t been training for almost a century. He picks his nose and tilts his head and leans on his staff. “Katara saw you guys coming, said you wanted to see me?” Something dangerous flashed in those grey eyes, steely and unlike his element. “Said you wanted to hurt these people?”

Zuko breathed in. Breathed out. Felt the flame inside his chest flicker uncertainly, suffocate him with the thick smog of his own guilt. “Avatar.” It didn’t matter what he wanted, though, because— “If you come with us, we won’t hurt anyone here.” He had to. For the children. For his family. For honor. _(“You dishonor me with your weakness. Be strong, like your sister.” “We fight for our honor. The airbenders and waterbenders continuously stifle our abilities, and have sullied our honor. For that, they were killed. Become the best you that you can be, children, and bring honor to our great nation!” the_ or else _did not need to be said.)_

“Do you swear it?”

“I swear.” Zuko licked his lips, looked at the boy in the eyes despite how hard it was to do so. His mouth was a tundra: so, so dry. He thought of the change he could make as King. He thought and thought and thought and his mouth moved of its own volition, “On my honor.”

The boy went with him. The blue children blurred into white.

For honor.

  
  



	4. Hesitate

    

Zuko is a lot of things: a failure, vicious, practically-a-parent. Zuko is a lot of things, but he is not a child killer. Unfortunately. 

It’s Kryo who comes bounding up to him first, as the ship takes off from the desolation that is the Southern Water Tribe  _ (“—and we vanquished those savages! Tore them limb from limb for what they did to us! They dared threaten us, dared to refute our glory! THIS is the pride of the Fire Nation! THIS is the glorious purpose which we were made for!” And Zuko wondered, blasphemously, treasonously, if the blood on their hands was the only thing that gave them worth.). _

“Who’s that?” the boy’s long black hair flounced freely around him as he bounded up and leaned into the Avatar’s space. “Why’s he bald? Why’re you bald?”

“The Avatar,” Zuko answered shortly, and then, “And don’t ask questions like that, it’s rude.” because  _ manners are important, Zuko, how are you ever going to win over diplomats and the stuffy old crones in the court if you cannot even be polite, my precious sun? _

The Avatar’s eyebrows briefly shot up, but then his face contorted into a large grin as he looked at the boy— they were almost eye level and Kryo wasn’t that tall and was the Avatar malnourished? And  _ he only needed an airbender to complete the set _ — “Hiya! I’m Aang! And I’m your… errrr…. Brother’s? Prisoner! It’s nice to meet you!” In a completely ridiculous maneuver, the Avatar— Aang—  _ the Avatar _ shot up with a small burst of air and bent his back to thrust his bound hands out to Kryo. 

Kairos yanked Kryo back before he could touch the Avatar. “He’s Kryo. I’m Kairos. This,” her hand clasped firmly over the four year old’s shoulder, “is Cyrtanthus. Her friends call her Lily.”

“Oh, cool! Heya, Lily—”

“I said  _ her friends. _ ” Kairos looked like ice, like something so cold it burns. She turned to look at Zuko, something uncertain lingering in her eyes. Zuko knew immediately why she was being so cautious:  _ “I’ll take down the Fire Nation!”  _ she yelled, and who but the Avatar was supposed to assist in that endeavor? He was crushing her hopes, but she didn’t understand that it was to save her. To put Zuko on the throne so he could undo tragedy, to allow Zuko to bargain with his father for the lives of the children he watched over. 

_ (“Is it worth it?” asked a general outside of the war room. “Is this war worth the cost? Are the few elite really so much more important than the many?” and he had burned, and Zuko remembered the smell of a person turned to ash to this day. He puked every time someone burned pork.) _

His little Lily spoke up, using one of her precious words with an odd determination. “Dad.” She pointed right at Zuko.

Zuko and the Avatar choked in sync. 

“Isn’t he a little  _ young _ to be having kids?” The Avatar got up in Zuko’s face— well, as  _ up _ as he could get. He was so short. Zuko pushed aside his concern. “You don’t look much older than me! You  _ can’t _ have had kids  _ that  _ old already!”

“You are right, young Avatar.” spoke Uncle Iroh. Thank Agni for his uncle because Zuko still couldn’t form words. “However,” Zuko retracted his precious thought. His uncle was the blight upon this world and Zuko would take pleasure in snuffing him out. “Adoption negates that issue. These children are all under Prince Zuko’s care.” Uncle Iroh gives Zuko a warm, proud smile, and Zuko graciously decides that his uncle may plague him as long as he continues to smile at him like that.

The Avatar’s mouth briefly twitches up, then down, then widens into a grin. 

There’s a craftiness to him, Zuko realizes. It’s in the way his shoulders loosen and roll back, in the way he plays up his childishness. Zuko is suddenly hit with the thought of a young Azula. Of his baby sister before their father started to train her until she collapsed. Azula was cunning in a way few people realized. 

Zuko grit his teeth. Azula would have never given herself up for others.  _ For him.  _ His hand grips the Avatar’s shoulder hard enough that it’ll probably bruise as he yanks the boy after him. He immediately softens, because this is a prisoner and a child and Zuko is many things but not cruel.  _ Never as sharp as Azula. Never as bright.  _ “This way.”

“So, you protect kids, huh?” Aang— the Avatar smiles, and his eyes squint, and it’s soft and odd considering the situation. “That’s pretty cool of you. Guess you’re not, like,  _ completely _ bad.” Zuko thinks  _ Azula  _ again before he realizes that the boy is completely genuine. 

Zuko thinks of the Agni Kai. He’d been given a chance— a slim one, but a chance nonetheless.  _ A chance. Give the boy a chance. _

_ (There is a young prince in a war room filled with old generals. They are planning to use soldiers as cannon fodder, citing that they can be easily replaced. “No!” shouts the boy. “It isn’t right!” The Fire Lord grins a grim grin and says, “Prove yourself in an Agni Kai.” The father does not hesitate to burn to scar to hurt his son for his insolence, but at least he gave the boy a chance. Zuko could have proven himself. There was a chance. Right?) _

“Guards!” Two soldiers march in front of him, stiff postures and the blank skulls of the helmets giving the illusion of staunch obedience.  _ Azula would definitely redesign these. She hates when things are easy.  _

Zuko recognizes Athame from the bracelet on his wrist. Zuko recognizes Blaze because she seems to sway slightly on her feet, much like a candle flame.  _ Blaze is such a sickeningly common name. What has the crew taken to calling her? Glim? Not much better, but an improvement on  _ Blaze.

“You are to take the Avatar to his cell. Do not. Under any circumstances. Let him escape. Do you hear me?”

“Yessir!” They salute, grab the boy gently but firmly, and march down a corridor.

㊋

Kairos looks betrayed, resigned, and curious. She’ll be asking questions soon. 

㊋

A fucking SKY BISON. He regrets giving the Avatar a chance to escape because the boy was apparently incapable of doing so with anything resembling stealth. What happened to airbenders being sneakier than a breeze in a hurricane? The boy was a tornado. A walking disaster.

“Prince Zuko!” He heard his uncle shout. But he was already scaling the mast and jumping into the crows nest. He screamed and fire erupted from his mouth and fists and evaporated the block of ice before it could capsize the ship.

“Where are the kids?” Blaze yelled.

“Lily is accounted for!”

“I’ve got Kairos!”

Silence.

Zuko spun around and searched the water’s from his vantage point. The bison was still nearby, he could still capture the Avatar. But not at the cost of the children. He swore to them. 

_ There. _

He leaped from the nest and angled his body down, fire bursting from his hands and propelling him towards the dark, humanoid shape he had seen.

_ Cold.  _ His fire was extinguished by the water and it felt like his very life force was being snuffed out. He dived deeper. There was ice in his veins. Young firebenders were susceptible to the cold. The cold was invasive and would kill them it would kill Kryo and Zuko would not stand for that.

Deeper.

A few fleeting bubbles go past Zuko.  _ Kryo.  _ His hand snatches scraps of fabric and he pulls the boy close. He swims up with one hand and his legs are lead but they kick furiously. 

The bubbles have stopped.

Up and up and up and they breach the water.

“Prince Zuko!” It’s his uncle’s frantic voice. The ship. Zuko’s hand reaches out and blindly grasps at a rope ladder as he sputters out water. He climbs up. ( _ Up and up and up Zuko never manages to bend to light the room it is dark and he ascends the stairs but the darkness chokes him). _

Zuko lays the boy out on the deck. He breathes in. Out. In. Out. Gathering his inner flame. He pulls the boy’s shirt off and puts his hands on the boy’s chest and  _ pushes  _ with his bending. In. Out. All the heat his body he’s managing to gather is being pushed into Kryo. Into his  _ friend son charge responsibility honor.  _

Kryo gasps. Breathing. Finally.

Zuko is shivering and there are black spots on his vision. “Hold on, Prince Zuko. The healer will help.” Zuko is rapidly giving in to rest, but before he is lost, he is almost positive he hears, “I cannot lose another son.”

 

   

 


	5. Pursue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iroh loves his children. Both of them.
> 
> Kairos is more devious than expected.
> 
> Kryo has not waken up.

Iroh had taken the two children that were awake and guided them through a meditation. They were asleep before they had achieved any sort of higher state, but that was to be expected. Jasmine tea with generous servings of honey always made them sleepy. He gave a soft chuckle as he tucked them into their beds. He turned to a nearby guard, “Distract them if they wake up before I’m ready, will you?”

    “Only if you give me a rematch in that Pai Sho, sir. I think I have a strategy that’ll finally defeat the famed General Iroh.”

“Of course!” The metal door slammed shut between them, and Iroh felt his face harden. He slipped into Zuko’s room, where his boy lay clammy and pallid, skin greyed and breathing shallow. “I am not to be disturbed unless it is an emergency, Ray.”

He locked the door once the healer left.

    He began the real meditation.

    Breathe in. Feel the heat swell inside of him. Breathe out. Let it coil around the room, around the body of his boy. Breathe in. His Spirit is flame and it roars in his blood. Breathe out. He’s calling to Prince Zuko’s Spirit.

    Zuko had done more than just heat Kryo up with that little trick. Zuko had spoken to Kryo’s very _Inner Flame_ , had torn pieces of his own out to give to the child; in doing so, he’d torn his Spirit. A firebender’s Inner Flame was not just their bending, but their Spirit as well. An Inner Flame was emotion and vitality and living: to deplete it… If Zuko had correctly managed to utilize the technique, it would have been but an ember taken from him, easily replenished. But Zuko was no healer. Zuko had barely known what he was doing.

    But that was okay. Iroh knew how to help Zuko. He’d always help Zuko. Always choose him.

    _(Iroh is swaddled with grief. He covers up the smell of despair-smoke with flowers and tea and hides his tears with laughter. He feels so heavy. Smothered completely. So subdued that he merely watches a child be marred by his brother. Watches his nephew-now-son scream and plead and says nothing as the adults around him jeer and mock the_ child _being tortured in front of them. He only manages to unfreeze the indifference, the stillness, when he thinks “What if that were Lu Ten?” Only manages to muster up the will to gather the boy in his arms when it is done.)_

_(Iroh didn’t choose Zuko when it mattered, so now he always makes sure to choose him. Iroh fumbles and bumbles because Zuko needs to be allowed to be annoyed and to laugh and to live. He says nothing of subterfuge and plots and machinations to overthrow the entire empire because he doesn’t know how well Zuko would take it, despite his son’s own plans of a slow overtaking. He chooses Zuko, always, because Zuko is worth it.)_

When Iroh opened his eyes, the world was greyed out. He carefully honed his senses— the Spirit World was dangerous, inherently. He chooses five sensations around him to focus on: a rusted, golden tree to look upon; the smell of the sea; the distant sound of children’s laughter; the smell of pomegranate tea; the black-red sky. If those things changed drastically, Iroh would have to tread carefully.

“Prince Zuko,” he called out, casually, in the same tone he used to ask to stop at a nearby port for more tea _(The Order of the White Lotus was everywhere.)_ “This is foolishness, Prince Zuko. The children are worried for you, you know. Our little Cyrtanthus cried— you always hate when she cries, don’t you?” He’s hoping to coax out Zuko’s Spirit with memories and emotions and names— to Name a Spirit is to know their entirety. And emotions are both the power and weakness of Spirits: the right emotion can destroy a Spirit, the right emotion can give them the power they need to enter the physical realm.

There is no sound. No movement. There is nothing in the clearing. And then there is a creature in front of the golden tree, looking directly at Iroh, head crooked. It’s a blue mask with white additions, lips stretched in a gruesome grin and two glistening fangs all but hanging out of the mouth. The body is that greyed out blue and the same gold as the tree, all spindly but muscled limbs and unnaturally motionless. It clasped a pair of dual broadswords in its bony hands.

It’s Zuko.

_(When Zuko’s mother died, Iroh read him stories. Zuko didn’t want to hear them, didn’t want to exist, but Iroh read them regardless. Zuko’s favorite story was of the Blue Spirit, the creature many thought to be part of the Avatar’s ultimate power: the Avatar State. It was malevolence and justice and passion and coldness wrapped into one creature. The mask matched its face.)_

“Ah, Prince Zuko! How kind of you to show up.” He pulsed his Inner Fire subtly, the grass around his feet erupting into bright reds and oranges and browns _(“Hey, dad, wanna know why my favorite season is fall? Because it’s always on the cusp. Always preparing for a great change. Well, that, and it’s also really pretty!”)_.

Zuko stepped closer, blades grazing over weeds. The path he made as he walked was a dim blue. Dying and justice and power.

There was so much potential in Zuko. So much righteousness and goodness. Zuko likely thought himself the malevolence, but he was passion through and through.

“Let’s go home, son.” Iroh held out his hand, and did not flinch when the sky alit like a flame and the aroma of tea became that of smoke and burnt flesh.

Iroh loved his son, but his son never did make things easy.

 

㊋

 

    Kairos watched as the shore got closer.

    Kryo was still out cold. Hadn’t woken up at all. The healer said something about his inside flame being doused, or something. There was a wet inside of him that couldn’t be burned out without hurting him. He’d wake up and should be physically fine, but…

    He might lose his bending, if it doesn’t go well.

    The healer had been furious, muttering about how kids should be safe on land and obscenities towards the Fire Lord. It’s nothing new— the entire ship seemed to be filled with rebellion in one way or another.

    One thing that Ray had said stuck with her: _“if only we hadn’t hunted down the waterbenders like idiots.”_ Because who else could extract unnecessary water from a body but a waterbender?

    Kairos wasn’t dumb. She thought a lot more than she was given credit for. She remembers telling Kryo she thinks they were meant to have the opposite elements, and him just smiling and saying “No. You’re the ocean, ‘Ros, you can’t be snuffed out.”

    Well, the Avatar just tried to snuff her brother out, and she’s the ocean. She’s the still of the waves before a storm, unbridled fury just barely contained for a moment of calculation.

    The Avatar was master of all elements. The Avatar had been travelling with two members of the water tribe. The Avatar owed her for almost killing Kryo and Zuko and for upsetting Cyrtanthus and making Iroh frown.

    She flashed puppy eyes at the nearest guard. “Please?” she whispered, turning her face down and wobbling her chin and lips like she was going to cry. “I- I wanna get Ky something nice since he… To make him feel all better.” She’d amped up the child-speak a bit for optimum chances of success.

    “I—” the guard sighed, adjusting their helmet. “Okay. I’ll take you to the market on this island, and you decide what you want. But we come back immediately after, okay?”

    She grinned. “‘Kay! Thank you!” She giggled and grabbed the guard’s hand, skipping off the ship.

    When they were on the streets, Kryo never questioned her gut instinct. It’s why he’d been so open with Zuko, why they’d agreed to go with him. He was strong, but he’d never hurt them.

    And she could feel it, deep in her gut. That instinct that had never died down.

    The Avatar was here and she would find him.

 

㊋

 

    Zuko opened his eyes with a sigh. He felt stiff and tasted lemon. He saw his uncle in the corner of the room and struggled to remember a question that had felt urgent moments ago.

    “Prince Zuko!”     “Prince Zuko!”     Two voices chorused at once as the door slammed open.

    “Kairos is missing!”

    Zuko shot up and was out the door with barely a stagger, unheeding of his unarmored body and lack of information. “Where are we? Where was she last seen?”

    “The Avatar, sir—”

    The Avatar. Of course.

    “Well?” he cut the man off. “After them! I don’t care if I have to light the engines myself, we are going to go as fast as this ship can and we. Are not. Stopping.”

    “Sir! Some of the locals have offered their help.”

    “Who?” His teeth were gritted, his hands fisted. He was fury, but he bit back that irrational part of himself. _(He sees blue and grey and gold and nothing else. “Why are you so angry?” asks a familiar voice. His maw opens and he replies, “How are you not?” The world is full of tragedy, and every bit of it boils his blood.)_

    The sound of heavy fabric and metal had him turning his head. “Why, Zuko. Didn’t think you’d try to write us off so soon.” A metal fan snaps shut, a painted face turns its smile into a grimace. “Really sorry we had to meet up like this. We didn’t know the girl wasn’t with them. The Kyoshi warriors are at your service. Or, well, I am. We need some fighters on the island, after all.”

    “Suki,” Zuko breathes out. Closes his eyes. He needs to sit down. He needs to get Kairos back. Now.

    But he can’t snap at Suki. They’re not friends, but they’re something edging there, sometimes.

    “Please, explain,” he croaks out.

    Her smile is more of a snarl. “Gladly.”

   

   

 

   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter kind of drags on a bit, but it's important because it sets of some narrative themes for both the plot and future chapters.Please keep in mind that this was about 7 pages in my doc even if it doesn't look like much here. Though that might be because I have terrible sight and have bigger fonts. The format always changes so drastically, loses all the aesthetic I put into it!
> 
> As you know all of Zuko's kids are adopted, so Kryo and Kairos were both abandoned on the streets. That's hardened them a lot. They're lovely children, but their survival instincts are strong because of their past. Kairos, in particular, has a penchant for mischief and manipulation. Don't worry, she uses her powers for good! And to get extra dessert, but isn't that the same thing as good?  
> I like to think that, while Cyrtanthus is young enough to accept Zuko as a dad, the other two kids are on the fence about it. Zuko is Dad because he takes care of them and teaches them and loves them, but sometimes he's like a goofy older brother and others he's just like a Mom Friend. But Kryo will definitely use this to his advantage:  
> Kryo: Hey, Dad! So I want this thing  
> Zuko, both flustered and confused and now trying to be supportive unlike his father: Sure????
> 
> This chapter was getting long in the docs so I decided to split it. I have the next chapter drafted and am thinking of using some Gaang perspective to fill in some of the gaps for this chapter. And maybe... Introducing more conflict :) 
> 
> I adore Suki don't @ me. 
> 
> I'm going to be rewatching the entire series today with a friend. For research. But seriously, this is around the part I want the plot to be irreparably changed, so I'm going to be taking note of exactly when and how I want to do that because I have an idea but it's been awhile since I've seen the show.
> 
> ALSO: The Blue Spirit lore is something I made up and it will probably most definitely play an integral roll in the story so. I did read something saying that the Blue Spirit was Zuko ripping off of a guy who called himself the Red Spirit, but I don't know how valid that is and I like my worldbuilding and geeky lore stuff better so.
> 
> I update every two weeks on Friday! Since I have it mostly planned out I might release the next chapter this Friday and then the next chapter the following as a little apology for some of the issues with this chapter. The early release is only if things are going good, though! Since fic is supposed to be fun I get very experimental with it as a way to practice for my actual writing and uhhhh not everything is a success.


	6. Capture

Sokka’s jaw clenched. How did it come down to this? To him, in a dress, staring down a Fire Nation soldier?

“Talk.” commanded Zhao, and Sokka would rather burn than talk. Would rather die than curse the world to be plunged further into despair  _ (his mother screams Katara runs the last waterbender in their tribe hope hope hope all burned by red and orange and men made for death and he is never strong enough not grown enough not man enough but there is a boy with the power to save them he is a child and Sokka will not let that child, that hope be burned like his mother will protect his sister their tribe's hope hope h—) _ . “Tch.” Smoke poured out from Zhao’s nose and leaked from his mouth. Sokka kept his face neutral behind the white face paint and pretended he wasn’t both curious and reluctantly impressed. “Won’t talk, huh?” The man leaned forward. He grinned and Sokka thought of charred bones covered in snow. “Don’t worry. There are other ways of getting what I want.”

And Sokka felt fear. But he was a man— no, a warrior. He would endure.

Zhao’s men chuckled.

He would endure.

㊌ Two weeks earlier ㊌ 

Katara did her best to hide the decay from Aang. He’d been so excited to see the temple… And then, he’d been so sad to see the empty courts and charred grass, how could she let him see the bodies of what were once his friends just after Sokka had managed to return some of Aang’s natural cheer? She was so used to looking after people, to tending to the children of the tribe, which makes the lies fall all the more easily from her tongue with little guilt.

But that all fell apart the moment Aang chased after a lemur and stumbled across Monk Gyatso, his corpse surrounded by dozens of others which all bore Fire Nation regalia. Like a taunt even after death, the red of their armor was bright against the more neutral tones of the airbenders.

“Please!” Katara pleaded. “Aang, please, stop!” Aang was blue and glowing and the wind scraped harshly against her skin. She and Sokka clung tightly to a large chunk of rubble and she felt Sokka’s arm curl around her shoulders in an attempt to keep her grounded. Rocks and bones thrashed around in the whirlwind of Aang’s rage. Katara saw past the rage and into the sorrow. It was a rage she had experienced when her mother died. When the men of her village all left.

 “Sokka,” she commanded. “Let go.”

Sokka might talk a big game about how men were the strongest, about how he was powerful and better, but, when it came down to it? He was more than willing to rely on Katara, to trust her.  _ (Snow leopard caribou were vicious.)  _

 “Katara, I hope you know what you’re doing.” He let go of her, and she pushed through the winds surrounding Aang, shouting all the while.

 “Aang, I know it’s hard! I know that it hurts! But we’re here for you!” She dodges a piece of wood and continues her steady march towards her friend. “You’ve lost so much… More than anyone could even imagine. I know the pain you’re feeling; I felt it when I lost my mother. But, Aang, the thing is? You think you’ve lost your family, but you haven’t.” The winds die down a bit. She drags his body into her arms and it’s painful but she hugs him. Hugs him because he needs it, deserves it “Sokka and I, well, we’ll be your family now, okay?”

Sokka chimes in, somewhat closer but still cautious, “Yeah, so stop making us worry, you little twerp!”

There’s a beat of silence before Aang’s glow slowly dims. 

 “... Katara? So- Sokka?” His grey eyes widened and tears started streaming down his face. There’s snot coming out of his nose and dribbling into his mouth, which is stretched wide with agony. “I- I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Aang buries his face in Katara’s coat, his mantra never stopping, only muffled by the cloth.

 “Hey now, little brother,” Katara starts softly. “It’s going to be okay. You have nothing to apologize for.” She rocks them back and forth, gentle as can be.

Sokka looks Katara in her eyes before pointedly snorting. “Y’know, if you thought  _ this _ was a temper tantrum, you haven’t met me. I was a little terror! One time, when I was—”

Aang laughed and Katara smiled. Sokka always knew how to make her feel better.

She looked down at the boy in her arms.

Little brother, huh?

The lemur shoves a berry in Aang’s face.

“Thanks, Momo.”

㊌

It was only a few days later that Appa landed on Kyoshi Island, and Sokka had never been happier. Oh, at first it was beyond humiliating. He was, as Katara put it, a “misogynistic, sexist pig”. He had talked down to the Kyoshi warriors and was promptly shown his place. That wasn’t the part he was excited over. 

 “Again!” Suki shouted.

Sokka got up with a bright smile. The part he was excited about was  _ training _ . Some of the men of the village had taught him a few basic moves, and he had learned a bit from hunting, but he’d never really gotten to fight. 

He pushed forward, dodged Suki’s right fan, struck out with his own. She disarmed him with a twist and pushed him back, but he didn’t fall this time.

 “Good job, Sokka!” Her own smile was bright and genuine and made Sokka’s heart melt a little. Too bad Suki seemed more  _ interested _ in women than men. He’d never heard of anything like that before, but she had quite literally beat into him the fact that it was normal. Supposedly. Sokka was still kind of weirded out by it, but...

 “I think I did better than  _ good _ , Suki-cookie!”

That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to pass up even a single opportunity to tease her. It was his  _ older brother gene _ and he physically could not restrain the smug smile from appearing on his face.

She blushed and rushed at him, swiping with fans. Her stance was completely grounded and so unlike the flowing movements of the water tribe fighters that Sokka was used to.

 “H-hey! You don’t get to call me that.”

 “Right, right. Only your precious—”

“THE FIRE NATION IS HERE!”

They both went slack before sharing a quick glance. They nodded and sprinted out of the room, towards the voice.

“—the Avatar, you old fool! Where are you keeping the Avatar?” The sound of a steel gauntlet hitting flesh resounded, before metal hit metal and a soldier went down with a grunt.

One of the Kyoshi warriors stood over his fallen form. Daichi was the tallest of them all despite being 13, and she readied her fans as she angled her body towards the rest of the soldiers, a barely there tremble to her lips was the only sign of her fear.

“Kyoshi is neutral land! What makes you think we harbor the Avatar?”

A man with black hair and a beard that went jagged at the sides and disappeared at his chin stepped forward. The fact that they could see his face let them know he was high ranking.

Sokka clutched his fans nervously, peering over the set of barrels he and Suki were hidden behind. They smelled like fish and he thought briefly that he was glad it wasn’t the blasting jelly they’d used most of earlier to tear down some old bronze statue that had been partially melted since decades ago. That had been fun time for some blasting jelly shenanigans. This was not.

“This… This looks bad, Suki.”

She huffed “It is.”

“There is no use in pretending, you’re just embarrassing the both of us. Now, tell me. Where. Is. The. Avatar?”

Daichi gave up all pretenses and sped towards the man. “I’ll never tell you! I’d rather—!” She stumbled and fell on her back as fire licked its way in front of her feet and circled around her.

“You’d rather,  _ what _ ?” He grinned. “Die?” He was enjoying it and that made Sokka sick.

It made him angry.

“We can’t let him get Aang, Sokka.” Suki’s voice was flat and a wry grin curled around her lips. They both knew what they had to do and were more than willing to do it.

“Hyuh!” Suki grunted with the effort it took to vault herself over the barrels and she ran, ran like she had never run before. She nimbly dodged balls of fire and rammed into any soldier that got into her way. Chikyū jumped from a rooftop and hauled Daichi away. Sokka darted around and twirled, flaring and pushing his fans apart quickly to disperse flame before it could hit him.

He and Suki were back to back, Chikyū laughing even as one man managed to cut her cheek. Laughing was better than crying, so they all made sure to grin and banter even though they were just scared kids.

A torrent of wind separated the Kyoshi warriors from the soldiers, snuffing out the growing fires, and a blur of orange landed nimbly on a bison not far off.

“Sokka!” It was Katara calling him, already on Appa. “They’ll follow us, let’s go!”

“Suki—”

“She’s right, Sokka, go!”

He gripped her hand tight, once, and then sprinted for Appa.

“Not so fast, _little girl!_ ” Sokka saw _red_ _(like the blood that stained the snow —like the men that killed his mother)_ reaching for him and he instinctively reacted, flicking his fans and driving their sharp points into the hand that dared to grab at him.

“Agni’s a—!”

And Sokka would never know what part of Agni the man was going to curse, because he was already on Appa. “Aang! Aang! C’mon, buddy, we gotta  _ go. _ Like now.  _ Now  _ now!” So he was a bit panicky, so what? He wasn’t in the mood to watch another village burn.

“Appa, yip-yip!” With a groan and snap of his tail, Appa was off. Already, the trio could hear the sounds of the Fire Nation soldiers scrambling back onto their ship.

Appa groaned again.

“You can do it, Appa, I know you can!” Aang’s smile was very forced and his hands shook.

“Aang,” Sokka looked down at the calm sea below. The ship was already catching up to them; he could see the soldiers preparing to launch something their way. “Why is Appa flying so slow? And doesn’t he usually fly higher?” He felt his voice break in several places and cursed puberty, because it was definitely not fear  _ (he was the man of the village now, he wasn’t allowed to be afraid) _ .

“Well. Ya see. About that, Sokka…” Aang sounded rather sheepish as he turned around to smile at him. 

“Aang and the kids were playing with Appa earlier this morning, and then they played with him in the water not too long ago. They tired him out.” Katara’s voice cut through before Aang could finish; her sternest  _ I-Learned-This-Look-From-My-Mom  _ glare was equipped, and it was clearly reprimanding Aang for several things she’d probably ranted about a million times.

“Well, that’s just—” 

_ Heat. _

Appa roared and tried to push himself faster, but to no avail. The smell of burnt hair was heavy in the air.

“Again!” the small voice of the maskless Fire Nation soldier yelled.

“Appa, higher! We have to go higher!” Aang was pulling at the reigns with all of his might.

Katara was crooning frantic but loving encouragements, “Appa, you’re so strong, and it’s just for a little while!”

Momo made a series of weird sounds and softly tugged at Appa’s fur before flying around Aang’s head in a panic.

Normally, Sokka would be right with them, but a thought had begun to take root in his head. He stared at the Fire Nation ship and let the thoughts flow, even the most nonsensical ones.  _ (“Your mind knows more than you ever will, Sokka. Somewhere in us, we’re connected to the entire world, but a large part of us will never know it. Most people don’t just let themselves think, Sokka. But what you did with that polar bear-dog today— well, it proved to me that you aren’t one of those people.”) _

The big problem at the moment were the catapults: they might be able to outmaneuver the ship itself, but the rain of rock-on-fire would be impossible to continuously dodge at this speed.

Solution: break the giant slings.

That left the question of  _ how. _

He reached down and felt one of the small, glass jars in his sash. 

Blasting jelly shenanigans.

“Aang, make a hard left, go in circles around them! That’ll make it harder for them to hit Appa as I explain my plan.”

“You’ve got plan?” Aang heaved a sigh of relief. “I didn’t. Appa, you can do this! Sokka has a plan so you’ll be able to rest soon.” He gently twisted the reigns, Appa obediently following with minimal grumbling.

“Of course my dummy brother came up with a plan. It’s the only thing he’s good for.” Katara clutched her dummy brother close, and Sokka graciously pretended not to know that she was crying— partially because he was pretty close to tears himself. This was terrifying, the plan would save his sister and new-brother, but he didn’t know how it would turn out for himself.

“The main problem is—”  _ heat heat heat _ flew past his head and he stilled. His hair had been singed, but his body and clothes were unscathed. Their luck wouldn’t last much longer. “We have to destabilize the ship. I have some blasting jelly I could throw onto one of their catapults before they release the fire, which will cause an explosion. While they’re recovering from that, Aang will flip the catapults over the side of the ship with his air magic—”

“—It’s  _ bending _ Sokka! I’ve been telling you for years and—”

“Not the time, Katara.” He breathed in, out. Now for the hard part. “While you and Aang distract the Fire Nation soldiers, I sneak on board. We can’t have Zhao following us like this, not when Appa needs to rest, so once on board I’ll find my way into the engine room and break it. The moment the ship stops, you guys have to take off.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Uh, Sokka? I think you forgot the last part of your plan. How do you get  _ off _ the ship?” Aang had a look on his face like he genuinely believed Sokka had forgotten, but Katara’s look of horror said that she knew exactly what Sokka was thinking.

“No.” This was the most determined he had seen his sister. He was going to hate having to ignore her wishes. “Sokka, you can’t. I can’t lose you!”

“You won’t.” She looked shocked and he pushed forwards. “They won’t kill me. I’m perfect Avatar bait. As long as they believe I have valuable information, I will be alright, Katara. Besides,” he smirked, painting every inch of himself in his  _ Katara’s annoying older brother  _ confidence. “You said it yourself: I’m good for plans. I will find a way out of there and meet you guys at the North Pole. But we can’t let the Fire Nation get their hands on our tribe’s last hope  _ and _ the Avatar— dad would kill me!”

Aang’s mouth opened, “Sokka—”

_ Heat. _

Katara yelled as the fire nearly grazed her, her skin already searing from the near miss.

“We don’t have time to argue, Aang. This is our only option.”

A breath. “Okay.”

“You  _ better _ be okay, Sokka, or I’ll kill you myself.”

Sokka didn’t respond outside of telling Aang where to steer the bison. 

He watched the soldiers begin loading and pulling back the catapults as Appa dropped lower. 

Wait for it.

The soldiers pulled back their arms.

Wait for it.

They pushed forward, red and orange and yellow bursting from them.

Wait for it.

The maskless man opened his mouth.

Now!

Sokka flung one of his jars at the farthest flame, flinching at the blast.

The smoke was good cover.

He dropped down, easily falling into a roll. The soldiers yelled at the smoke and Sokka’s smaller form went unnoticed as he slipped through a door and peered down the hallway. As he sneaked onwards, he heard shouting and splashing water.

_ Aang’s doing his job, then. _

An odd crackling sound and then, “Catch the waterbender!”

_ And Katara’s doing hers. _

He spotted a staircase. “Oh, yeah! I gotcha!”  he whispered.

Too soon, it seems, because a woman in black, baggy clothes and a helmet held in her arms walked up the stairs, muttering to herself.

“Damn men, can’t even keep the engine room  _ clean _ .” She paused, spotting Sokka before he could unfreeze his limbs. She dropped her helmet and punched the air, making the water tribesman have to duck and roll to dodge the fire. 

“Hey, can’t we, uh, talk this out?” his voice was pitched higher than normal out of fear, and he resisted the urge to say something else in his deepest voice. 

More fire.

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed!” 

The woman was now at the top of the stairs, stance low and face settled in a glare.

_ (“Think fast, Sokka, or you’ll be overtaken by the tides.” Hakoda’s voice was gentle as he held Sokka’s arm, slowly moving him through the motions of swinging his club. “We’re not waterbenders, but we are of the water. The sea is inside of you, Sokka. You just have to let it flow out.”) _

The staircase. He needs to go down. He needs to take her down. She’s at the edge. Two in one, right?

He jumped over a wave of flame, twisted to the side, and refused to stop in his forward pursuit. The woman made to back up, but realized quickly righted herself, stepping forwards slightly with a growl.

He twirled and blocked a particularly nasty bout of bright yellow flame with his left fan and felt himself pale under his makeup as the fan melted and he had to drop it. He nearly became human jerky.

Jerky. He was so hungry. How badly did he need his pinky fingers anyhow?

_ (“Sokka, you can wait FIVE FRICKEN MINUTES for your share of the seal jerky!” Katara shouted.) _

The woman’s hands pushed outward from her chest and he flowed under, hitting her in the diaphragm with the bottom of his palms the way Suki taught him. The woman gasped as she teetered backwards.

Sokka remembered last minute: no helmet.

His hand shot out without his permission, pulling her by the front of her shirt and throwing her onto the ground behind him. He saw her surprised face as he slammed the door to the staircase shut and locked it. 

His luck hasn't run out yet. The door had been ajar; if it hadn’t, he might not have found the stairs before it was too late.

It was pitch black. Probably because firebenders could just make their own light. Sokka reached for the next and last jar in his sash, which was only about the size of his pinky. For something as delicate as an engine, though, it would definitely do what needed to be done.

He cast his gaze around the room: small, littered with papers and several things Sokka couldn’t make out in this lighting. He found himself agreeing with the woman upstairs: couldn’t even clean, indeed. Not that he would say it out loud, a man marks his place with his mess.

He could hear the woman doing something with the door and clenched his fists to stop his hands from trembling.

He opened the grate on the engine, shuffled the papers so that they were all around it. The papers might catch fire and make it harder to reach the engine, he figured, so why not? He stepped as far up the stairs as he could while still being able to see the engine, took a deep breath.

He could hear the door warping. 

He chucked the jar at the fire and clutched himself as the small explosion rocked the room. He was choking on the smoke and collapsed, wheezing. The last thing he saw was the woman, looking at him with an odd expression as she lifted him up, and then he fell unconscious.

****

㊌

****

It had been a day since Sokka had jumped ship, so to speak, and Aang was miserable. Appa had gotten to rest, and Katara insisted they go back to Kyoshi just in case Sokka was there. Looking at how ruined some of the buildings had gotten made him sick. This was his fault, wasn’t it?

But Katara needed him, so he smiled, smiled, smiled.  _ (“A smile is the projection of the very soul, Aang. It is the easiest way to spot the nature of a person. And might I say that you have a beautiful soul, young one.” Gyatso smiled down at him, and Aang knew immediately what the elder meant.) _

Katara had left to get some supplies before they left again. Of course, the moment she wasn’t near one of the warriors— Chikyū, he thinks?— approached, looking grim. “You should leave, Avatar. The Fire Nation is here.”

Aang perked up. Was Sokka…?

“Are they the same guys from yesterday?”

“We cannot tell who they are just yet, but the ship is much too small to belong to General Zhao.”

His hopes were crushed, but he hid that beneath a determined nod. He should never have let Sokka talk him into being left behind. At least he had a name for the man, now.

“I’ll get Katara and we’ll leave. I don’t want to bring any more misfortune upon your people.”

Her face softened, untensing slightly. “It is not you who have brought misfortune to us, it is our complacency. You are our hope, Avatar. We believe in you.” She took a deep breath, and her face was solemn again. “One of the other warriors are telling your friend. Go to your sky bison and ready yourself.” She turned and quickly walked away, her shoulders set.

Another child ready for war.

A child that had to be ready because of  _ him _ .

He became the wind the best he could, his feet barely touching the ground. Chikyū had been kind in saying that it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t let these people be hurt because of him for another second.

“Appa!” His friend raised his head from his food. “Momo!” The lemur’s ears twitched and Momo grumbled, sleepily poking out from a spot in Appa’s fur. “We gotta get ready to go, guys.” They whined. “I know, I know. But all these people will get hurt if we stay.” He eyed a small bald spot on Appa’s front leg as he murmured, “ _ You guys _ will get hurt.” They stopped complaining at that.

Heaving a sigh, Aang set to putting Appa’s saddle back on. It was as he was tightening it that Katara yelled, “Aang! Aang we gotta go!”

“I know Katara.” He turned to speak to her and then paused.

A young girl dressed in golds and blues was at Katara’s side, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Her skin was a shade darker than Katara’s. Another waterbender, maybe?

“She said that you could help me.” The girl was blunt, her blue eyes unwavering.

“Er, yeah. Um...”

“We can help but we have to  _ go. _ ”

The girl frowned, taking a step back. “I need you to help my brother. I can’t leave.”

Katara’s eyes widened, “Were the two of you kidnapped?”

“No! We were on the ship that you messed up two weeks ago! My brother got sick and only a waterbender can help him.”

Katara and Aang shared a guilty look.

“What tribe are you two from, sweetie?” Katara’s grin was forced, but she was trying.

“I don’t know what tribe I’m from, but my brother’s a firebender so—”

Katara snarled and Aang knew exactly what she was thinking. 

_ (“He’s too old to be relocated.” Katara hunched in on herself, wiping away her tears. _

_ “Relocated, what’s that?” Aang didn’t think it sounded too bad. _

_ “When the Fire Nation first started destroying the Southern Water Tribe, they’d take young, non-bending children and give them to a Fire Nation family. Sokka’s too old to buy into Fire Nation propaganda— he can remember too much of the bad…” Aang held her to himself and decided that relocation was the worst thing he’d ever heard of.) _

“Aang,” she scooped the girl up and ignored the girl’s struggling as she got onto the saddle, “We gotta go.”

He clutched the reigns and watched the girl fight.

“Yip-yip, Appa.”

He was new to this world, to this war. He didn’t know what was right or wrong or who to trust outside of Katara and Sokka, but he hoped he could help this girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now have a wonderful beta read: PoCATo! She's helped me a lot this chapter, especially when it came to remembering that I was writing Beginning!Gaang and not End Result!Gaang. It physically pains me to write Sokka's casual sexism but until the plot has progressed a bit more, I will do as I must.
> 
> I would like it to be known that I have a chronic problem and am in perpetual pain, and sometimes the pain overwhelms me to the point where I can't breathe or move, so if I'm ever late on an update it IS coming, I just needed more time because I was in too much pain to focus on writing. 
> 
> I'm also going back and doing some light edits on the previous chapters so the other updates today will just be that!
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter but I got so used to writing introspection for this specific story and this specific style that I felt like the fighting/more dynamic parts came off as stiff. If you have any suggestions for how I might go about fixing that please let me know!
> 
> Hope your days have all been lovely!


	7. Renounce

“Suki… Are you-- Are you being SERIOUS?” He started at a whisper but was quick to shout; an ember jumping into a forest fire, yet ash was quick to taint his tongue again as his posture crumbled with defeat. “He declared the citizens of Kyoshi Traitors?”

_ (“You’re nothing but a pathetic  _ traitor _ , Prince Zuko. You’ve betrayed us in all but name.” Zhao’s words chased him like smoke: enveloping and inescapable. It would be so easy for this man to declare him Traitor, for anyone to say he has Dishonored Glory, for someone to claim that he has abused Agni’s gifts and is nothing more than another insurgent.) _

“Deadly.” Her smile was gone, now, and Iroh let her all but strangle one of his hands in her grasp as he set a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“I--” Zuko didn’t know what to do or say. He clenched his fists and sharply turned his head down, staring at his own feet. Kyoshi Island was where he sent any Earth-children, bending or no. What would happen to the children now? What would happen to the Kyoshi warriors? How could he stop this?

He couldn’t. It had already happened. The only thing he could do now…

“I can either look the other way, letting your people be killed or I can put myself in the crossfire.” The small smirk playing on Suki’s lips told him that she already knew what he’d choose. “Did Zhao say he was going after you himself, or did he say he would send others?”

And Zuko felt selfish, because the only thing he could think was  _ don’t make him choose, don’t make him choose _ ; one option meant he could protect Kyoshi Island while still pursuing Kairos, the other meant he had to give one up.

“Zhao said he would kill us himself.” 

_ (Relief was a gentle orange. He could hear his uncle sing lullabies and his children laugh and everything felt clear, like a long dark room finally being illuminated by a lantern. “The Legend of the Lantern Holder,” he could hear his uncle start to read, “She could not fight, she could not heal, but she let the world burn her to be a light for us all. It is said that she was the first Firebender, and that, if you’re in despair, all that you need to do is call to your Inner Flame, and hope will come again through her guidance.” A breath. “Prince Zuko, there will always be hope; a revolution is burning inside of us all. Please, if nothing else, remember that.”) _

_ (Hope, hope, hope.) _

“Then I just need to paint a bigger target on my back. If he’s distracted by me, it’ll buy you more time.” He strode over to the nearest guard, Glim, and held his hand out. “Your dagger.”

“I don’t have a--”

“I’m not an idiot!” His teeth bared and his eyes went wide, Glim took a step back. Zuko focused on calming his breathing, he could feel his uncle giving him the stink eye for his behavior. “I apologize. What I meant to say was: I know you have a dagger, I am not angry with you for keeping a weapon that is against standard regulation; I thought it was rather clever. So, uh…” He tried to glance over at his uncle, but Iroh was standing to Zuko’s left. His blind side. “Can I see the dagger?” He clenched and unclenched his open hand.

“Of course, Prince Zuko!” The heavy weight of the seax knife was cold in his hand. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

_ (“You will fight for your honor. Rise and fight, Prince Zuko! You  _ **_will_ ** _ learn respect and suffering will be your teacher.” And he was burned, but his hair was left uncut. Cast out but not banished, honor lost but not ungainable. One step away from complete forfeiture. He never was the perfect son, and now, he never would be.”) _

“Prince Zuko!” A hand over his own stops him. He can only partially make out his uncle, still on his abhorrent left side. “What do you think you are doing, Prince Zuko?”

“What has to be done.”

Glim speaks up, softly, “Sir… If I had known what you were going to use that for, I never would have given it to you.”

“It’s either an entire island full of people, or myself. I think the decision is obvious.” He refrains from saying out loud  _ you numbskull _ , from the spite that wants to spew out of him. He bottles it up and feels it burn inside of him, searing away some of the soft parts he hides. He needs to go after Kairos,  _ now _ . He needs to distract Zhao. Time is of essence and every second spent dithering is time lost and time lost means lives lost and Zuko can’t handle that. 

“Prince Zuko,” his uncle’s voice is a balm to his ire. Slow and gentle like the crackling of a fireplace.  _ Home _ . “You may cut your hair if you wish, but to do so at this moment is not very strategic.”  _ That _ got Zuko’s attention. His grip on the seax lightened, and Iroh plucked it from his fingers. “You have just woken up from a coma to find a very distressing situation, Prince Zuko. You are not thinking rationally. Tell me,” he steps in front of Zuko, a grin beginning to take form, “what would be the most strategic thing to do to our opponent?”

Suki steps cautiously closer, eyes wide. Hair doesn’t really have the same meaning on Kyoshi, but even she knows what it means when royalty lops it off. She doesn’t know quite what’s going on, and yet. She sees the calculative look on Zuko’s face, and she thinks she likes where this is heading.

“The most strategic thing to do would be to fake him out. Keeping up the ruse of our alliance would make it easier to get closer and strike a blow. Maybe even several, if we manage to space it out right.” Zuko’s left hand finds itself gently skimming over the texture of his scar, an odd habit that meant he was thinking something very conniving. “After that, keeping up the ruse would be impossible, but before that… We could deal a lot of damage. After we slow him down as much as we can, of course.”

“Correct, Prince Zuko. The thin veneer of allyship we have with Zhao will protect us, and harm him. You know the saying about your friends and enemies, my nephew?”

“Keep your enemies close, and never trust your friends.”

Iroh let out a full belly laugh. “Not quite, but very Azula of you!”

Part of Zuko wanted to make a joke about  _ maybe his father would like him then _ , but it was too visceral and the thought alone resulted in him cringing.

“How is Kryo?” He was deflecting, but, now that he mentioned it? His mind was overtaken with the need to  _ protect care help _ .

“Kryo’s hurt?” Suki’s eyes were wide, but her face settled quickly into something solemn and grim. “Who hurt him?” Her hands hovered over her fans.

Iroh was fast to step in, “Your talents are many, young one, but… Your particular area of expertise is unnecessary. It was merely an accident. An unfortunate one, yes, but an accident nonetheless.”

She immediately calmed down. “Can I see him?”

“Yes, uncle. May we see him?”

Shooting down the twin puppy dog eyes was among the hardest things Iroh had ever done. “Not yet, I’m afraid. The healer insists on staying alone with the child until he awakes, which, luckily, should be within the next few days.”

Zuko let out a shuddery breath as Suki glared at him, clearly demanding answers.

Not like he himself had just woken up from a coma or anything. 

“Glim.” The soldier stood ramrod straight. “I want you and the others to set a course for Zhao. Where he is, the Avatar is. Where the Avatar is, Kairos is. So you  _ better _ not make any mistakes in your navigating.”

“Do I ever? Sir.” 

He felt something in him smile, and wondered if it showed on his face. From the expression Glim was wearing, it did not.

Uncle always told him to work on that.

“No, but there is no margin of error. A lot hinges on this, Glim.” His hands curled into fists. (“ _ Breathe in, hold. Breathe out. Do not let the frustration overtake you, Prince Zuko.” Not a prince for much longer, is he?)  _ “Oh, and Glim? Get Cyrtanthus. Seeing Suki might soothe her.”

Suki huffed and sat down in the nearest chair. “You need better furniture.” Is the first thing she says. The second is the phrase he was waiting for, “So, what’s the plan?”

And he grins. Because he will take back his charge  _ (his family) _ and save Kyoshi if he has to give his life for it. Children should not have to be casualties of war.

_ (He is blue and gold and silver: justice and malevolence and coldness and passion and honor.  _ _ Somewhere deep within him, a Spirit stirs. It laughs in the clearing with the golden tree. Soon. Soon, soon, soon. Justice, malevolence,  _ **_honor_ ** _.) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, I'm hoping the next one will turn out much longer.
> 
> Suki, the very second she discovers that Kryo has been harmed: Whomst?! Has hurt the child?? The precious boy?? I'll slay them where they stand.  
> (Can't wait to write my cinnamon roll Kryo again!! Gonna enjoy writing the kids.)
> 
> The spirits are gonna play a very real and very prominent roll in this story, so i hope you're ready for me to just completely make up lore! When I'm not writing I'll just be two diving for any mention of spirits so that I can just completely ignore it. As one does.


	8. Awake

Kryo blearily opened his eyes.

Something was wrong.

_ (He was exhausted and hadn’t eaten in what feels like forever. There was a girl that had been stalking him and he didn’t know what to do about it. He looked at his hands, small and far too thin for a child and wrong just like everything else about him, and considered ending it. But the girl that had been following him stood in front of him, hands on her hips and eyes blazing, and she demanded his attention. “Eat,” she had said, and dropped food at his feet. “Live,” she had told him, and sat down beside him. “I’ll be your friend,” she had gentled her voice but not her resolve as she threw her arms around him. And all of the wrongness that had thrived within him suffocated under her strength. Yet, it still persisted.) _

_ (It was two years later that Zuko had taken his hand and told him he was perfect and that his parents had been wrong to abandon him. Kryo had felt some of the wrongness in his blood vanish under Zuko’s firm belief and care. It was back, now. And he didn’t know why.) _

“Zu--” he erupted into a hacking fit, shaking all over. “Kai…” He felt weak and frail. It was like putting his starvation skin back on: skin simultaneously too tight and too loose.

The sound of hurried footsteps was quickly followed by a warm hand that brushed his forehead. Kryo untensed slightly.  _ Warmth. He was so cold. _

“Shhhh. Shh. Young one, it is alright. Can you hear me?”

Oh, it was the Healer.

“M- Mr. Pink…”

A bout of surprised laughter had Kryo smiling faintly, even though he himself couldn’t join in. Nor could he open his eyes, which was. Concerning. One thing at a time.

“I show you  _ one  _ demonstration of proper science and you never let me live it down!”

“Is everything alright in there?” asked the familiar voice of Glim.

“Yes, yes.” Kryo couldn’t see it, but he would bet Kairos all the money he had that the old coot was flapping his hand dismissively. “The boy is awake, is all.”

“Awake! That’s great news! I’ll go--”

“--Don’t overwhelm him--”

Footsteps.

“And she’s gone. That overexcitable Will-o’-Wisp. When will she learn?”

“Hope… Nev’r…” Kryo wheezed, clenching his fists. Why was everything so painful? “Col’...”

“Ah, yes. You will be cold for a while yet, little brat. But we will find you a Healer soon enough.”

“Yuh? Aren’ yuh heal?” The words feel heavier and heavier in his mouth.

“I’m not the type of healer you need, boy.”

And with that, his senses fade away again into the listless void of unconsciousness.

 

㊏

 

Cyrtanthus was restless. The world was too big and she was too small and, worst of all, there were two Very Important People that she was missing. She tried to force the sounds of their names out  _ (“Say Kairos, say Kairos!” “Little Lily, I know you can say Kryo! You’re so amazing; it’ll be a piece of cake for someone as awesome as you!” “Rose!” she had chirped out, and everyone had been happy. “Crime!” and everyone had laughed their Good Laughs and she had, too, despite not knowing what the joke had been, because everyone was happy and so was she.) _ But they got stuck in the back of her throat and weighed down her tongue. Kryo was sleeping but for too long. Kairos had left-- something called an  _ Avatar  _ had stolen her sister, her Kairos, and no one would tell her more. Uncle Iroh would smile big and laugh that fake laugh he thinks she doesn’t hear and play games that she didn’t want to play because there were more important things, important people, she needed to focus on.

And Zee was too busy. Looking for Kairos. Worrying about Kryo. But Cyrtanthus just wanted her family back and she didn’t understand _why_ they weren’t there. Why Zee still couldn't teach her to talk to the earth and why tea time had shifted and why Glim _(“Ah, don’t call me Blaze, sweetie. Alright? Call me Glim, it makes me happier!”)_ didn’t sneak her candies and everything was changing too fast and she didn’t _understand_ and no one wanted to help her understand and--

“LILY!”

It was Zee. Her Zee. Why was he screaming for her?

“Lily. Lily Lily Lily Lily--” his hands stuttered around her own, gently untangling one set of her fingers from her hair and softly pulling the other way from her throat. “Breathe with me, Huǒhuā de Háizi.” It is the endearment that makes her tongue unstuck, that allows her to greet the air, that makes it easy to see the pink-purple of Zee’s burn and trace its bumps with her eyes.

Zee always makes it easy.

_ (She hummed curiously, tugging at the hem of her Plant-Friend, of her ever green Iroh. Even when he’s red, he’s green. He’s strong and smart and will help her grow all of this curiosity inside her. This reminds her to tug harder and hum a bit louder, trying to force a lilt into the sound so that it sounds the way a question mark feels. “Do you want to know what Prince Zuko just called you?” She clicked her teeth together three times and nodded.  _ Yes _! “Very well. Huǒhuā de háizi means Child of the Spark. The Spark is said to be what makes a firebender powerful.” He laughed at her furrowed brows and tilted head. “When Prince Zuko calls you that, he is claiming you as family-- as from his own Spark, his own Spirit. He is telling the world that you are powerful and that you belong.” Belonging is nice, Cyrtanthus thinks. She is a Sparkling, a Powerful Person, Zee’s Family. Belonging with Zee means that the stares and whispers and yells don’t matter. Belonging means that she can breathe.) _

__ “I’m sorry for leaving you alone for so long.” He brushed away her tears. He doesn’t promise not to do it again, which hurts and doesn’t and makes her stumble with the force of the contradiction. Zee never says anything he doesn’t know he can do. 

She pressed her head into his chest. When everything else has been upended, she still has Zee.

“I have an idea,” he stands up with her still in his arms. “Suki!”

“Yeah?” Her head popped out from one of the doors, her hair trickling down the slant she’s tilted herself at. Cyrtanthus giggles. Suki was weird.

“You think you can teach Lily some earthbending techniques?”

“I can’t earthbend!”

“Neither can I.”

Cyrtanthus is already rendering them to comfortable background noise. She knows Suki will cave to Zee’s request. Why does Suki pretend she isn’t going to say yes?

Zee huffs. “Look, it’s more about teaching her the forms. We’re focusing more on form with her than we are actual bending. Uncle’s covering some of that side of things by teaching her through meditations. He said something about connecting with her inner earth Spirit. You’re around earthbenders more than I am. So, can you, or can you not?” Cyrtanthus pats Zee’s cheeks. He’s getting riled up again. She can smell sulphur and he hasn’t even started smoking yet. If he yells at Suki he’s just gonna be miserable.

“Alright, alright. I’ll do it. But!” Suki smiles wide. “Only if the munchkin lets me hold her.”

She’s plucked from Zee’s arms with a squeal of delight.

“Lily,” Zee takes a deep breath. “We’ll work out a schedule for you a little later, you got that? But things are hectic right now. If we want to get your sister back that schedule might have to be a little more flexible, okay?”

It’s not okay, but Cyrtanthus nods because she wants it to be. Because her sister is Important, more important than the safety of her routines.

“Okay.” He takes another breath. The smell of sulphur recedes a bit as he turns.

“Love Zee!”

He pauses, and then he turns to smile at her. “Love you, too.”

“Haha! You’re such a softie! Who knew that the mysterious fire nation prince had a heart?”

Zuko starts smoking.

 

㊋

 

Zuko struggles to keep his composure. Kryo was awake, yes, but he was still weak. They had a plan to slow down Zhao, but Kyoshi was still in danger. Cyrtanthus was in good health physically, but mentally she was hurting and she kept hurting herself to express that. They were able to track Kairos, but she wasn’t here. 

Zuko’s world was crumbling, but everyone was relying on him. Even banished, he was Prince, he was in charge, and that meant it was his responsibility to take care of everything. His responsibility to ensure that everyone would live. Everything rested on his shoulders and all he’s wanted to do was cry and scream and fight, but he straightened his back instead. He kept steady, determined eye contact. He spoke in a low, commanding voice. He would betray his nation  _ (“--the greatest nation of them all!”) _ but not his emotions.

“Prince Zuko!” It was Glim again, all smiles and optimistic strength. It made it just a bit easier to keep his posture, just familiar and reliable enough for his gold eyes  _ (He was guilty guilty guilty. Failure and incompetence and Justice unserved.)  _ to meet her brown ones. “We think we have an idea of where the Avatar might be headed, and we can adjust our course to follow directly behind Zhao.”

Zuko refrained from frowning. He knew it was logical, that the plan was to deal with and hopefully deter Zhao from both capturing the Avatar and setting Fire Nation Soldiers on Kyoshi. He knew that if Zhao caught the Avatar that the boy aboard his ship might get killed if he hadn’t been so already. That Kairos would be killed for the sin of being a waterbender if found.

He couldn’t think about that. Kairos would be fine.

“What are you doing here then!” Zuko shouted, causing Glim to straighten up and open her mouth to stammer out a response. “Go set a course! We’re--” He grinned, a feral thing.  _ (The Spirit’s teeth were long and sharp and hooked and begged to bite to tear to rend. Cornflower blue erupting into a crackle of electricity as the being silently laughed. Death and justice and power. In the boy-that-tried-to-be-a-man a bitterness welled, and the Spirit inside him roared.)  _ “We’re setting up our first act of rebellion, after all.”

 

㊌

 

During her few years of life, Kairos had learned a thing or two. Or seven. One such thing was how to get what she wanted when no one wanted to give it to her. Another was when to pick her battles. And, the one she was using right now, was how to be petty in a way th at would not jeopardize her well-being when all else failed.

“Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. Four seasons, four loves. Four seasons, for love!” It was a song Iroh often sung, and she had been singing just that one verse on repeat for over an hour.

“Please, have mercy! Sing something else!” Katara pleaded, Aang groaning in agreement.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Kairos was all saccharine sweetness, a daggered smile contrasting the otherwise innocent widening of her eyes and tilt of her head. “I didn’t realize my kidnappers had song requests or else I would have taken that into consideration! My deepest apologies! My  _ Fire Nation family _ raised me with better manners than you-- I mean, that!” She fluttered her eyelashes and clasped her hands together as she bowed apologetically. 

“Oh, that’s it you little--!”

“Katara!” She stopped, looking regretful, and Aang just sighed. “Look, I know this is difficult for you, but think about how this looks from our side?” He gave the younger girl a hopeful look. She glowered and he slumped further. “Just… Please sing another song?”

For a split second, she appeared to pity him. Maybe she  _ should _ give him mercy. She genuinely did understand why they reacted as they did. However, they had taken her away from her family when her family needed her. Her face shadowed as she tightened her fists. “Okay.” Even as she walked forward with the group, she straightened her back.

Deep breath.

“O’ Fire Lord,” she chanted solemnly. “My flame burns for thee--”

“THAT! IS! IT!” Katara lunged for Kairos, scooping up the girl and putting a hand over her mouth. 

“Shhh!” The air around them went still as Aang cut his hand through the air. Kairos stopped her struggling and Katara stopped moving. 

“What is it, Aang?”

“Do you guys hear that?”

They all listened. The sound of rock crumbling and being reformed resonated throughout the trench-like area besides them.

Kairos would recognize that sound anywhere. After all, it was the sound of her little sister’s success.

“An Earthbender.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you saw the A/N, I'm sure you know that I have mental and physical problems that sometimes stop me from updating :( HOWEVER! I genuinely love writing this and have SO MUCH planned so like y'all better strap tf in!!  
> I'm getting to the parts where I get to leave some of the introspection (Zuko is SO angsty guys. His job is to sit and brood seriously) and get to write more of the dialogue! Once Kryo is fully awake and during Sokka's POVs be prepared for witty (and not-so witty) banter! I'm going to have to look more into writing fight scenes tho.
> 
> Check out my beta reader poCATo! She's got some rad things brewing on her side. Since this chapter was just finished literally five minutes ago she has not had the chance to read through all of this, so some grammar errors and such will remain until we both get time to look through it. Nonetheless, I really appreciate all the effort she has put into helping me with this.
> 
> Any ideas on who the earthbender is or where the GAang might be? >:D
> 
> Any guesses as to what exactly (aside from Avatar hunting) Zhao is up to? And what sort of politics shenaniganry do you suspect are about to happen? I would genuinely adore seeing fan theories.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience with me!


	9. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Divergent paths begin to meet. Spirits start to open their eyes.

“What. Is. Your. Name?” The Fire Nation woman is back, looking and sounding aggrieved. Good. Sokka remains stubbornly silent, tied to a chair and staring at the metal floors of the ship. This cell  _ sucks _ . She sighs. “Look, kid.” She pulls a chair out in front of him, sitting down. “I can appreciate your silence; it’s kinda commendable, if misguided. But do you really think that keeping silent about something like your name is gonna work out well for you? Commander Zhao can and  _ will _ torture you for information if you don’t give it freely. The only reason he hasn’t already is because you’re a woman.” Right, still wearing the Kyoshi warrior gear. Maybe he should keep it on foreseeable future-- he’s not big on pain. “Choose your battles, kid.”

Sokka is surprised to find the compassion in her frown lines, to see the hesitance in her brown eyes. He remembers his father, telling him to always keep quiet in situations like these, saying that speaking is traitorous. He remembers his mother, who was sly and cunning and told him that a good strategy is the way to win any battle. He remembers, and he makes a decision.

He feels sick as he does it, he feels disgusted with himself. He feels proud.

He always has been more like his mother, hasn’t he?

“Sakura.” There’s an Earth Kingdom tradition of naming nonbending children after plants, something about bringing them closer to the earth. There was also a tradition like this among airbenders that he’d read about--

_ (Not many books make it to the Southern Water Tribe, but Sokka and Katara eat them up. Sokka wants to know the world, wants to see how things work and create something beautiful with that. Katara reads and loves sappy things, but she always gets so angry. “Look!” she screams. “Look at this! They’re STILL hurting people!”) _

__ _ (A veil trickles down to her feet, surrounding the girl-child. A mist drifts in the wind, wafting and dancing around the Spirit and the girl. “Keep that anger,” the Spirit bides, “it will serve you well.” And it walks off, fizzling into the cold sea.) _

__ \--but Sokka shoves the thoughts of young airbenders away, because there’s only one now and he has to do this for him. For the whole world.

“And your last name?”

Shit. Sokka hadn’t thought that far. He barely managed to stop himself from saying “Earth” but it’s a close thing. By close thing he means, “Kun. My name is Sakura Kun.”  _ Kun,  _ which basically just means  _ earth _ . He wants the ground to swallow him whole.

“Sakura Kun, huh?” The woman scoffs. “Well, at least your name is in the Fire Nation arrangement.” Sokka nearly choked on his next breath. The Water Tribe didn’t really  _ do _ last names. You were the  _ child _ of  _ parents _ , and that was that. He’d forgotten that the Earth Kingdom usually arranged their names by family name and  _ then _ the given name.

It’s an effort to keep his voice even and to pitch it slightly higher without quite reaching a falsetto to sound a bit more feminine, but it’s energy he’s willing to expend if it means getting information. He thinks he can work with this woman, somehow. She doesn’t seem as malicious as the others, and Sokka is more than willing to manipulate that to save his own hide from dirty Fire Nation soldiers. “And yours?” 

The woman tilted her head. “My what?”

“Your name, lady. Jeez. What else would I be asking in this context?”

The woman looked surprised, but Sokka had to refrain from breaking out of the ropes and throttling himself.  _ Don’t antagonize your captors, you idiot!  _ The Katara in his head is wailing in agony at his stupidity. He scowls. He can’t escape her even when she isn’t there.

“My parents were hoping for a boy, so my name is Huojin Rong, I’m the Chief Engineer aboard this ship, but you may call me Chief Huo if you must shorten my given name.” She heaved a sigh, which drew Sokka’s attention to her armor: more leather than metal, far more flexible. He eyed the calluses on her hands. Yes, he’d been lucky fighting her once, he doubted the path of blunt force would treat him so well a second time. “ _ But _ ,” Sokka’s attention snapped right back to her eyes.  _ (“Always look the enemy in the eyes, Sokka.” his father cautioned. A lone wolf-- a terrible tragedy, his tribe knew-- cried to the night sky, its howl ripping through the swaths of stars and begging to be found. White as snow and grey as an ash stain, eyes black as the void that sucked all things in, the Spirit of the wolf towered behind him, reminding him of his smallness, of his power, as he looked at the moon that sung through him the way its blue light sang through the waves.) _

__ “But if you  _ dare _ leave off my title, if you disrespect me…” She scowled and the heat in the room surged, and Sokka began to sweat not only from the humidity but also the raw  _ fear _ . He felt like he was nine and his sister was screaming and there was blood and death and  _ fire all around him _ . “I will show you what happens to those who dishonor me.”

“Of course I won’t disrespect you uh, Chief Huojin.” He cleared his throat because  _ no he had not squeaked, damnit,  _ and then paused. Okay, he still had to build a rapport, gain some trust. Maybe a more original nickname would be endearing? He didn’t understand this whole espionage thing. Was this espionage? He  _ was _ trying to make a soldier defect, so probably? Okay, focus, Sokka. Focus  _ Sakura. _ “Would calling you Chief Jin be alright?”

There was a long period of silence where the woman just stared and Sokka tried desperately not to sweat. 

“Very well.” Chief Jin stood up, placing the chair back in the corner. “I will be back to ask more questions later.”

“Wait, that was it?” He was expecting something more, like maybe how he had ended up with the Avatar. But. Well. What?

She smirked and her eyebrows quirked up, “As I said, more questions later. I think the General is trying to find out if you are related to anybody wealthy. With a last name like  _ Kun _ and considering you lived on Kyoshi, probably not.”

 

㊌Hours of Being Tied Up And Bored Later㊏

 

“Ah, Miss Sakura. Lovely to see you again.” Zhao opens the metal door to Sokka’s cell. Okay, fine. It’s more of a really sparse room, but he’s trapped in it all the same.

It takes far too much effort for Sokka not to snap  _ wish I could say the same _ . Instead, he chokes out, “What do you want, Zhao.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” The man  _ tsks _ , walking forward with slow, heavy steps.  _ Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.  _ His right hand snaps out to grab Sokka by his chin. “That’s  _ Commander _ Zhao to you. Though, I suppose a traitor like yourself wouldn’t have been taught many manners, would you?” The tone he uses is almost pitying, but there’s a malicious tilt to his smile and the grip of his fingers on Sokka’s chin becomes bruising.

Sokka averts his eyes, but he notices that Zhao’s left hand is heavily bandaged. He shoves down his smug expression. Pride can wait for safety. And then he’s gonna  _ gloat. _

“Now, here I heard you were back to talking.” He pushed Sokka’s face away, standing back. He put his arms on either side of Sokka’s chair, making sure they were both eye-to-eye and that he was above Sokka. Looming. “We speak when spoken to, clear.”

Sokka’s expression was flat. He wouldn’t be overly pushy with Zhao, would hold back the sarcasm. But he refused to be cowed. “Crystal.” 

“Was that so hard?”

_ Excruciating. _

“See,” the man straightened up, pacing idly a few feet in front of him. “I think a few things in your story don’t add up.”

_ You think? I’m surprised to hear that you’re capable of something so complex. _

“For example,” he strutted closer, right hand hovering over Sokka’s face. “You have such  _ exotic _ blue eyes. Dark skin, too. That doesn’t sound very  _ Earthbender _ , does it. Sounds almost… water tribe. Care to explain.”

“My mother.” It all comes back to his mother. He channels her as best he can as he speaks. “I never got to meet her, or her side of the family. Dad refused to speak of her. And then…” He trails off. He makes sure to pull his brows in, to bite his lip, to curl his shoulders as much as he can while tied up. He looks confused. Lost. Pitiable. If Zhao is only refraining from outright torture because he believes Sokka is some fragile doll of a woman than Sokka figures it can’t hurt to play up to that.

“And then?” And oh, there is the interest Sokka wanted to get.  _ Hook, line, sinker. _

“Well, dad died when I was about eight. I was orphaned. I don’t remember much of the how, but a ship took me to Kyoshi because a bunch of other orphans were being taken there.”

“I’ve heard of something like that, but I didn’t realize the extent…” Sokka didn’t trust that gleam in his eyes. “You’re saying you might have water tribe blood in you?”

“I might.” He needed to spin this, needed to leave some sort of question. Something that would keep Zhao looking, but not looking too hard. “My last name wasn’t always Kun. It was never used when I was young, so I didn’t have an answer to give when the governor asked…”

“Interesting.” The man had sat down, directly across from him. His head was tilted and his right hand was grazing his jaw. Sokka hoped  _ interesting _ was good for Sakura’s cover. Sokka hoped this pose was a type of curiosity that would save him until he could escape.

“Commander Zhao!” 

“What is it?” And Sokka hated how poised the man sounded, how he lounged in the chair that looked like it was made to be uncomfortable. How at ease he was, like Sokka wasn’t a  _ threat. _

He weakly pulled against the bindings. He wasn’t a threat. At the moment.  _ (The Wolf strikes under the cover of night, with only the Moon as guidance. Around him, his pack growls. Soon. They will strike soon.) _

“We’ve arrived at port.”

The man grinned, malice in his dark eyes. His armor  _ clink _ ed as he stood up. “Excellent. Now untie the prisoner. She comes with us. We must begin preparations at once.” He left the room, all smirks and arrogance that Sokka desperately wanted to throttle.

“Uh, hey. Guy.” The man untying him did not pause, nor make any other acknowledgement of his presence. “Um. Where are we? I just think it’d be neat to know and all and it’s not like I can use this information for nefarious purposes for anything considering the circumstances and--”

“Omashu. We’re stopped at Omashu.”

Sokka had no idea where that was or why they would be stopped here. “Neat,” Sokka said. Neat, neat, neat. Great. Well, new place, new escape attempts-- isn’t that how the saying goes?

 

㊋

 

Zuko was holding Kryo so that they were back-to-chest, the boy’s legs dangled over his arms, and he stood by the edge of the ship. The sun was just rising and the sky was painted muzzy purples and pinks. Kryo was too weak to walk or stand for long, although physical therapy would help him recover from his muscle atrophy. Unfortunately, no full recovery could be met until he saw a proper Healer.

“Dad, set me down please? I can’t brood properly if you’re holding me like a baby.” Kryo might have been complaining, but he relaxed deeper into Zuko’s hold, facing his caretaker with a smile.

“It’s  _ not _ brooding.”

“Right, right. It’s  _ contemplative posturing _ , right?”

Zuko huffed. “Correct. I said what I meant and I meant what I said. You know that.” Cyrtanthus, in his uncle’s arms, flapped her unblemished left hand as she giggled. He scowled. “Anyway, what even am I?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’d like the answer I would give…”

“Oh, shut up, you small creature.” His lips twitched up and he forced them down at the laughter of his family.  _ Family _ , and a warmth spread through him. “I meant you all keep switching up the terms. Am I your dad, your brother?”

“You’re our Zuko.” 

Zuko clutched the boy just a bit tighter, breathing steady. 

“And what am I to you, little spark?” His uncle’s voice was soothing, like the soft flickers of a candle flame.  _ (And there was something monstrous flickering inside of him, wasn’t there? Iroh was not UnTouched by his travels. Flickers of autumn scales hissed along his consonants, cajoling his listeners. In his very Inner Flame, three legs with sharp talons flexed and black feathers ruffled, charcoal just waiting to burst. Iroh tamped these things down and smiled, but one set of the wings behind him stretched wide while the other wrapped around him, possessive.) _

“You’re Uncle Iroh!”

Cyrtanthus burbled and cooed her agreement, smiling and nodding and flapping.

“I was, how did Kairos put it? The one about being born into something?”

“You were assigned uncle at birth!” The boy grinned, eyes crinkling. He was gold, gold, gold; the burnished kind, not the bronzed gaze of Zuko’s scarred eye or the guilty one that festered within his uncle’s laughter. “She’s right, you know. You’re the perfect uncle!” Sweet as honey, he continued, “You’re actually just perfect.”

“Oh, stop it.” Zuko’s uncle laughed, his cheeks stained a bashful red. He reached into Zuko’s arms to mercilessly tickle him, delighting in the shrieks of laughter and ignoring his pleas to  _ stop, stop, I’m gonna bust a gut laughing! _ Cyrtanthus clicked her teeth twice in warning and, when no response was given, gave a final, decisive click of her teeth before yanking on her uncle’s beard. He yowled in pain, instantly halting his tickling assault. He looked at her frown, so obviously an expression borrowed from Zuko’s own repertoire, and was at a loss.

“Now why would you do something like that to poor old me, my precious Lily?”

“Can’t you tell? You’re the one who taught her manners.” Zuko was the one laughing now, shoulders shaking at the force it took to repress the uproarious sounds. When Iroh still clearly didn’t get it, he gave mercy. He owed his uncle that much, at least. “No means no, Uncle. Kryo said stop and you didn’t.”

“I  _ did _ do that, didn’t I?” He ran his hand through the girl’s hair. “Thank you for correcting my behavior, dearest niece.”

“Prince Zuko, we’ve arrived.” It was Glim, her face set in determined lines. Suki was the one who pointed out the other Fire Nation ship already anchored by the harbor. 

“Omashu… You remembered what I said about unexpected allies, yes, Prince Zuko?” It was not a question.  _ (Scales and feathers and teeth and beak and claws. Coiling, curling, ready to spring.  _ Not yet _ , Iroh cautioned _ , Not yet. _ ) _

_ (The gold burned into each step, and the blue prepared to wither and take.)  _ “Of course.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually fairly unhappy with this chapter. The ending part is okay but the Sokka section is somewhat... Lacking? I might rewrite part of that idk
> 
> Can't wait to write both physical and political battles, as it all rears its head soon.
> 
> I am so tender for the found family trope you don't understand.
> 
> Next chapter will likely be Gaang centric.


	10. Tremble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Insinuation of rape, though nothing graphic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be making the chapters shorter so that I don't worry as much about posting 10 page long things. Sorry about that :/ My logic is the less I'm worried about writing the more I post.

Katara was smart, that wasn’t up for debate. What  _ was _ up for debate was her experience, her ability to interact with a world she had been largely isolated and even shunned from.

“Hey, you!” she shouted at the Earthbender. Aang chorused his hello, and Kairos wanted to die a little. What were these idiots thinking? Did they know nothing of the world?

The Earthbender boy froze, jerking around to sprint in the opposite direction, collapsing a section of the path before they could catch up.

“Hey! We just want to talk!”

“I can’t believe that the first waterbender I meet is this incompetent. I can’t. A waterbender? I’ve never met one of those before.”

“Kairos, that’s not very nice.”

“Well, your  _ incompetence  _ isn’t very nice, either, but I didn’t say anything about that until you forced my hand, didn’t I?”

“How do you even know what incompetence means?” Aang was beyond exasperated, transcending into the realms of exhaustion.  _ Is this how the monks felt when he threw pies at them? _

Kairos scrunched up her nose “I’m not an  _ idiot _ .”

“Shut up! Both of you!” Katara took several deep breaths. In, then out. She pinched the bridge of her nose the way she’d seen Sokka do it when she annoyed him. She missed her brother dearly, in that moment, because he was an idiot but that idiocy made people feel comfortable and welcomed and  _ Sokka _ would have befriended the murder-child she was currently hosting.

“You can’t make me do anything.”

Her eyebrows were twitching in irritation and her fists clenching and unclenching. She took one look at the child’s smug face and lost it. “I can ice your mouth shut, you ungrateful twerp!”

“Guys! C’mon. Let’s just go where that Earthbender guy was heading. We might find something interesting!” His flagging mood instantly perked up at the thought of mystery and adventure.

Kairos and Katara shared an aggrieved look. They knew the scars the Fire Nation had sundered through the rest of the world. They knew what hiding your bending looked like. They knew the fear on that boy’s face. Aang was being naïve.

But with that single look shared between them, they  _ knew _ that neither of them would be the one to break his happy fantasy.

 

㊌Shopping㊏

“Miss. Kun,” comes the oil-slick drawl of Zhao’s voice. Sokka thinks he preferred being called  _ prisoner _ or even  _ barbarian. _ The way the man says his fake name makes him want to vomit. “We have stopped at port, today.”

“And why are you telling me?” Sokk-ura, as he’s taken to calling himself, crosses his arms and raises a brow. He belatedly remembers that oh, yeah, he had planned on being more respectful, and tacks on a hesitant “...sir” for good measure.

The man laughs and Sokk-ura’s skin crawls. “Can you guess where we’re headed? I’ll give you a treat, if you can, Miss. Kun.”  _ (In the Southern Water Tribe, there was a saying all kids were told: don’t play with your food. The Tribe may have been moonlight and water and wolves embodied, but real wolves shared no such compunctions.) (Zhao was dried blood red and poisonous black. Laughter rasped and crackled around him, vindictive and lying. A creature made of hands and grinning teeth grabbed for all of the things not made for it. Ambition and greed and malice, toying with its prize.) _

“The Northern Water Tribe.” Sokk-ura smiled sweetly, innocently. He made his eyes wide and naive and made sure to sound like he had never known sarcasm in his life. Ha! Katara would get a kick out of that thought. He’d tell her when he saw her next.

Zhao scowled, gritting out, “Not the most astute, are you? But what was I expecting of a barbarian? We are heading to Omashu, which is not far off these shores. I will be meeting with a-- well, you don’t need to know all of the details, do you? He’s an associate of mine and a very important man, you see, and he has… an eye for more, let us say,  _ exotic _ women, yes?” Sokk-ura blanched. “You will be made presentable for our meeting tonight. I hope you are able to plan some form of entertainment, or I might have to come up with a few ideas myself.” Sokka couldn’t breathe. He’d  _ heard _ of things like this, but he couldn’t possibly be insinuating that…? “Chief Engineer Rong!”

“Yes, sir?” she seems to materialize at Sokka’s side. When did she get there?

“You will be taking our  _ honored guest _ to wherever women go to be made proper young ladies. You are to buy anything she might need for entertainment. You will  _ not _ lose our guest, do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, sir.” Her hand clamps around Sokka’s arm, dragging him to the ramp and down it. He feels like he’s floating. “It won’t come to that, you know.”

“Come to what?” he feels numb. He wishes Katara was here-- she was the anger, the movement, the push to his pull. 

“Precisely. Now, once we make it to Omashu, we will be going shopping. Is there anything you can think of that might interest the General coming on board?”

“Shopping?” Sokka perked up, snapped out of it, and slipped back into Sokk-ura. “And, well, I don’t know? I mean, the Zhao bastard said exotic, but to me I’m just me? I don’t know what you crazies find exotic.”

He’s too tired to censor. Luckily, Chief Jin is in a good mood and merely snorts in amusement. “Songs, plays, dances, and the like would all fit just fine.”

_ (Under a full moon, the water peoples dance with ribbons that trail behind them and flags that whip around them and the steady beat of drums to keep them grounded. And the Wolf watches over it all. Sees one of its remaining boys leave and watches as he is amazed by the celebrations on an island that reveres Kyoshi. The Wolf whispers to its boy, to its chosen--)-- “ _ I will dance,” Sokk-ura says in a husky, feminine voice. Chief Rin is visibly surprised by this change, but Sokk-ura just laughs it off. “Hormones, you know? Didn’t help that you’re the only one on that ship that doesn’t scare me.” They’re marching, surrounded by soldiers who are eagerly chatting about shops and women and drinks. Sokk-ura doesn’t care, just watches  _ (watch them watch them watch them)  _ as Chief Rin flusters for a moment.

_ (And the Wolf becomes the boy, all the better to protect him.) _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title: BREAK THE BRACKETS  
> I've been waiting for this chapter for so long! Spirit influence has officially gone from passive to active!

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is based off of how Zuko acts in the war room! Zuko was proven to be a very moralistic child, and I like exploring the idea of those morals never really deteriorating.  
> If you have any one shot ideas, wanna talk headcanons, etc, then I am on Tumblr! I'm thisislightful and all of my writing can be found under the tags #jacewrites and writing and art all go under #jaceflicker
> 
> Thoughts? Ideas? Theories?  
> Please remember that comments are an author's life blood! (but I understand if any of you are too anxious to do so. I've been there!!!)


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